Salvation Unnecessary
by Heiress7Muzzy
Summary: In which an early morning rescue mission goes awry.


**Title: **Salvation Unnecessary

**Disclaimer: **This story is belongs to Marvel. They own all the characters, credit and copyright. This story is made simply for enjoyment and no money is being made from this. No offence intended. No copyright infringement intended.

**Warnings: **Silliness

**Pairings: **Implied Clint/Natasha

**Summary: **In which an early morning rescue mission goes awry.

**Author's Note: **Please don't throw things at me for writing something so high up on the Universal Scale of Lame. Merry Christmas (:

"_Screw this!_"

The shout, followed by an earth-shattering crash, brought five bedraggled superheroes staggering ungainly into Tony Stark's main laboratory in the early morning hours, suited up for battle.

Thor's bed hair, which made him resembled a lion somewhat, coupled with how carelessly Mjolnir dangled in his hand, meant the god was _very annoyed_. Steve, it appeared, hadn't had time to get into spandex mode, and was shielding an _interesting_ part of his anatomy with his shield. Bruce was his ever rumpled self, while Clint and Natasha didn't even seem to notice their own rather peculiar choice of attire.

The group arrived to find Tony standing over a completely repaired hydraulic pump he had been trying to fix for the past couple of days. He turned, a blueprint between his teeth, and a screwdriver clutched in one hand.

"What's up, guys? Manhattan in shambles? Fire-breathing invaders from outer space? Or did you all forget at coincidentally the same time that this is my lab, that _no one _is supposed to enter, unless given permission by _moi_?" he asked around his mouthful of blueprint, cocking a brow at them.

"Actually, we came to see if you were alright," Bruce stated matter-of-factly, "given how you were shouting and banging things around, we thought we'd find you in mortal peril at the very least."

"Oh, that? That was my victory cry," grinned Tony, holding up the screwdriver to demonstrate, "I only had to screw that nail near the double-end rotor back, and _bam_, this baby is as good as new."

"Ah, well, in that case, I'll just…" a very red-faced Steve mumbled, shuffling hurriedly toward the door, and practically hurtling down the corridor.

"Why was Cap holding his shield _there_?" Tony asked the suddenly stone-faced group before him. The lack of response was answer enough for the resident genius. "…I see, no time for spandex?" he smirked knowingly.

Thor chose that moment to scowl heavily and say, "Next time, son of Stark, I would very much appreciate it if you did not disrupt my slumber with your cries of victory, for it is extremely burdensome to shampoo, condition, rinse and _repeat_."

That said, the mighty god of thunder turned and stalked off, no doubt to deal with the additional tangles in his mane – _hair_ brought on by early morning excursions to laboratories dressed for battle.

"Wow, Goldilocks has PMS," Tony commented, turning his attention back to the remaining three in his laboratory. "What're you waiting for? Ever heard of personal space? Out, out of my lab!"

Bruce was the first out the door. Clint and Natasha had almost made it when they suddenly found their way barred by a robot horse.

"Whoa, there, hold your horses!" Tony exclaimed, gleeful delight colouring his voice, as he pointed at the trapped pair, "Legolas, is that a _skirt_ you're wearing? And are those Clint's Superman _boxers_, Natasha?"

"Um… eh, this?" Clint asked, plucking at the black miniskirt he had on, "Of course not, it's just… a fashion trend in Scotland nowadays."

_Oh, really? _Tony snickered inwardly. _Black miniskirts, the newest Scottish trend? You and Tash are never going to hear the end of this from me._

"If you say so," he said, in his best non-sarcastic voice, which, suffice to say, was still rather sarcastic compared to most people.

"And just so you know, these aren't boxers, they're shorts, Tony," Natasha said primly, "I like Superman."

With that she switched off the robot horse, grabbed Clint's arm, and bodily dragged him away from the lab and more of Tony's forthcoming questions.

(_Might be continued should author find the time and incentive to do so…_)


End file.
